Five Days in April
by chlorinehamster
Summary: Watch the PPTH crew as they struggle to discover the prankster in their midst. What's he or she after? Mostly humor, with slight bits of House/Cameron if you look closely in later chapters. WIP/Temporary Hiatus-Fall 2009
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Not my sandbox. Fox and David Shore demanded that I say House, M.D. belongs to them. Oh well, at least I won't get baylisascariasis.

Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital clinic, 31 March, 11:43 PM

An alarm buzzed softly and a man groaned, swatting at it quickly. He got up from the clinic bed and ran through the list of things he had to accomplish before the ever-so-early birds Dr Cameron and Dr Wilson got in at 8 the next morning.

_0. Disable the security cameras, then reconnect them after everything else is done_

_1. Repaint Wilson's office_

_2. Arrange for the pranks on Foreman, Chase, and Cameron_

_3. Zing Cuddy_

_4. Distract Cameron after she arrives_

It was the first one that was going to be the most time-consuming, he thought, especially as he had very little artistic talent. The groundwork for the second had already been laid, so that was taken care of; and the zeroth and third would be easy, given that he'd managed to...acquire...the hospital administrator's user ID and password for the hospital mainframe.

The fourth, though...that was the kicker, and the main objective. He was going to drag her feelings out into the light of day if it was the last thing he did, because he was tired of watching her dance around them every single day.

It was with that thought in mind that he cackled evilly, rubbed his hands, and turned to the laptop he'd stowed in the cabinet.

Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, 1 April, 7:57 AM

Dr Allison Cameron tended to be the trusting sort. Certain cane-bearing individuals would describe her as naive and saddled with an insane moral compass, but she'd personally thought of it as a strength. Today, however, she had the slight feeling that something was off as she crossed the lobby to the elevator bank.

As she left the elevator and turned to enter the Diagnostics Department conference room, she saw something that made her put full faith in the power of intuition.

Every surface in the room sported a stuffed toy kangaroo, holding a British flag in one paw, sitting atop a jar of Skippy extra-smooth peanut butter. Even the sanctity of the whiteboard had been violated; it had been tilted to the horizontal and given a kangaroo of its own.

Intuition couldn't tell her, however, just how much worse things were about to get.

Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, 1 April, 9:17 AM

Dr Lisa Cuddy was not in a good mood. First Diagnostics had suddenly been invaded by an army of British kangaroos, and now -

"What do you mean, the Neurology lounge is full of barbecue grills?"

Nurse Brenda Previn could only shrug helplessly.

"I don't know. The head of Neurology paged me to ask what the hell was going on and why no one thought to inform him that his department had been transformed into a giant cafeteria. Apparently, someone moved a whole bunch of Foreman grills in there overnight. And their fridge is now stocked with hamburgers, buns, lettuce, tomatoes, and everything else."

"Foreman grills? H-"

At that moment, Cuddy's pager went off.

**WHAT ON EARTH - DR WILSON**

"House, you had better have a good explanation for this one," the dean muttered, putting a hand to her head, as she exited her office. "Excuse me, Nurse Previn."

Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, Dr James Wilson's office, 1 April, 9:20 AM

Oncology was not a very fun specialty. A lot of patients who came through the doorway of Dr Wilson's office didn't make it; frequently, whenever House didn't bother him, Wilson found himself pondering the philosophy of it all. Was it worth extra points in the scheme of things to choose this task, so others didn't have to deal with the misery that accompanied it? Did the satisfaction of being able to save a life make up for the negativity that surrounded not being able to do so?

At the moment, however, Dr Wilson was just finishing up the initial evaluation and prognosis for a 70-year-old man who had just been diagnosed with small cell lymphoma.

"...and the average survival rate for this kind of cancer is almost ten years."

"Wait, doctor. I thought small cell usually meant it was very aggressive."

"That's true in the case of small cell lung cancer, but small cell lymphoma is different. It's slower and much less aggressive than small cell lung cancer."

"I see. Would it affect my eyes at all?"

This question was unexpected. "I'm sorry?"

"Well, you see, I had some time to look around the office while you were on the phone earlier, and I noticed this beautiful painting on the ceiling. Are you a fan of horror movies by any chance, Dr Wilson?"

Completely taken aback, the oncologist followed his patient's finger and looked up.

Somebody had taken a page out of Michelangelo's book and turned his office into an advertisement for a double feature of The Eye and The Rings. However, the artwork bore 2 modifications: the title "The Rings" had had two words added, becoming "The Kayser-Fleischer Rings"; and the image of the eye underneath the modified title now sported the gilded rings that were a classic sign of...

..._Wilson's disease_.

"Excuse me one moment, Mr Hart," Wilson apologized, rising from his chair and paging Cuddy.

Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, Diagnostics conference room, 1 April, 9:30 AM

The team sat at their usual places along the table, trying valiantly - extra valiantly in Chase's case - to ignore the plethora of marsupials adorning the room while waiting for House to show up.

When Cameron had first come in, she'd dropped her bag and been speechless for ten full minutes. Then Foreman had come in behind her with his nose in a medical journal; not seeing her, he'd run into her, gotten off of her, apologized, and picked her up off the floor. And then he'd raised an eyebrow and chuckled upon seeing what had pushed Cameron into catatonia.

Then Chase had come in, stared...and promptly sat down and started doing the crossword without help from anybody, for the first time in recent memory.

Cameron thought he'd been stunned or annoyed into silence.

Foreman thought he was dreading House's reaction when the boss came in.

Speaking of which, where was he anyway?

Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, Dr Lisa Cuddy's unusually-full office, 1 April, 11:00 AM

"There is no way that you did not do any of this, House."

"No, you're right. It was all me. Me, me, me. What are we referring to, anyway?"

"The fresco in Dr Wilson's office, the Foreman grills in Neurology, and the kangaroos in your own department!"

"Oh, come on. I call Chase a kangaroo or a dingo half a dozen times a day already, actually demonstrating it would be...cliched."

"Still don't believe you. Clinic duty."

"Look, I know everything points my way, but I swear on my season pass for _Prescription: Passion_ that I didn't do it!"

"Clinic. Now."

House left in a huff, muttering something about evil S&M witches with clinic duty fetishes.

Cameron, Chase, Foreman, Wilson, and Cuddy stared at each other for a while.

"Well, if he didn't do it, who did?" Chase asked, at length.

"This is exactly the kind of thing he'd do!" Wilson insisted.

"Yeah, sure, but how would he manage to paint that thing on your ceiling with his leg the way it is?" Foreman remained skeptical.

A cane thumping in the corridor outside caused all of them to drop back into the positions they'd been holding when he left. House entered, and took in the array of neutral expressions.

"Cool. Kinda like _Night Court_, except it's daytime."

"You have clinic. Why are you back here?"

"Well, Cameron, it looks like the deities known to man as 'Mick Jagger', 'Eddie van Halen', and 'Jimmy Page' have smiled on me and given Cuddy clinic duty instead."

"What?!"

"I tried checking in, and found out I wasn't scheduled for clinic duty. Instead, Cuddy monster, you are scheduled to take up the clinic hours of myself and everyone else in this room."

Cuddy stood there gaping for a while, during which House rush-whispered, "Nocomment?GoodI'mtakinganearlylunchbreak," and limp-dashed out the door.

The silence in Cuddy's office was now complete.

For about five minutes.

Then everyone filed out to lunch, agreeing just to ignore what had just transpired.

Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital lobby, 1 April, 11:19 AM

A UPS driver got out of his truck and checked the instructions on the clipboard.

"Yup, yup, that's done, got that, hmm...okay."

The few patients, nurses, and hospital staff still around turned to look at him as he wheeled a five-foot eight-inch white marble statue with a halo and angel wings into the hospital lobby, slid it off the hand cart, and had a security officer sign for it. As soon as the driver left, the security man took one look at the four-inch-thick block identifying the statue, and immediately paged Cuddy.

**DR ALLISON "HOUSE'S LOBBY ART" CAMERON**

**PPTH DEPARTMENT OF DIAGNOSTICS**

Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, 1 April, 11:45 AM

"Now can you deny it? You're the only one out of the six of us now who hasn't been hit by some kind of prank. It doesn't make sense that you would spare yourself if you weren't the guilty one."

House sat and pondered for a moment, tapping his cane. To cover his thoughts, he looked around.

"Ever *tap* read *tap* Agatha Christie, Cuddy? *tap* And Then There Were None?"

_Cameron isn't the prank-playing type..._ *tap*

_Foreman has no artistic talent..._ *tap*

_Chase wouldn't humiliate himself like this..._ *tap*

"No, what's that got to do with this?"

"The murderer fooled everybody into thinking he was dead...it'd be easier for a prankster to do the same thing," House answered absently.

_Wilson is too responsible to pull pranks without a lot of provocation..._ *tap*

_Cuddy thinks of the hospital as her baby and wouldn't screw with it..._ *tap*

Try as he might, he couldn't figure out who had managed to pull all of this off. Unless...

"Did anyone check the security video for the past week?"

"Nothing. But all it proves is someone who knows my user ID and password, which means you or me. And it's not me, House!" Cuddy snapped.

**TO BE CONTINUED...**


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own House, M.D. Nor do I own the songs "Gaybar" by Electric Six or "Te quiero puta!" by Rammstein.

Dr Gregory House's residence, 2 April, 4:19 AM

House slumped on the sofa, still trying to figure out just what was going on. He'd barely managed to talk his way out of being sent on an involuntary vacation for the next month back in Cuddy's office. She still thought he'd been so bored that he'd actually spend so much money on the deluge of pranks that had hit PPTH.

Fortunately, this had become a cogent argument in dodging the blame.

_-Flashback-_

_Try as he might, he couldn't figure out who had managed to pull all of this off. Unless..._

_"Did anyone check the security video for the past week?"_

_"Nothing. But all it proves is someone who knows my user ID and password, which means you or me. And it's not me, House!" Cuddy snapped._

_"On the other hand, the more people who know, the more people who can spread that information. Kind of like influenza, but much more fun and less ickiness."_

_"Then it's still your problem, isn't it? You released the information to whoever, and now they've used it to pull all of this off. I might be wrong, but seems like you're partially responsible," Foreman interjected._

_"Excellent insight, Shaft!" House retorted. "Last time I checked though, my name wasn't Robert Novak. I didn't do it, because Valerie Plame here would scrunch up her face and make shrill sounds at me. As she's doing now."_

_"Besides, Foreman, you were the one doubting it was House because his leg couldn't handle the painting in Wilson's office," Chase added._

_"Also, how much did all of this cost anyway? Marble statues aren't exactly a dime a dozen at CVS, and House always sticks me with the bill for lunch," Wilson observed._

_Cuddy looked up at that._

_"Since it seems that no one can nail the prankster right now, and since Diagnostics doesn't have a case, you four are going to clean everything out. Foreman and Chase, you two are on statue-moving. House, take care of the grills. Cameron, kangaroos."_

_Foreman, Chase, and Cameron left. House saluted mockingly, then followed them out._

_-Flashback ends-_

After work, he'd gone home and thought for a long time. He'd tried to tease out the answer over a couple of glasses of Scotch, half an hour of piano, and even some General Hospital reruns. Result: a big fat zero, with endless messy scribbles on sheet after sheet of scrap paper to show for it. Even when Wilson had invited himself over and the two of them had argued back and forth for the better part of two hours about who it could be, the only thing that had come out of the session was a $100 bet that it was Chase (Wilson's opinion) or Foreman (House's).

The only thing House was sure of was that it definitely wasn't Cameron - he'd been down to see the artwork and writing on Wilson's ceiling, and none of her trademark junior high school girl G's were in evidence.

Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, third-floor janitor's closet, 1 April, 2:04 PM

Chase sat in the dark with a flashlight and his laptop, reading an online full-text version of And Then There Were None. Surely there had to be some kind of hint or clue in here that would prove House hadn't been responsible. There was no way the man could have done all of this - Foreman and Wilson had both raised persuasive points.

Try as he might, however, he was stumped. House was also the only person in the entire hospital with the slightest inclination toward pulling pranks.

He leaned back and thought back to something he'd seen once on an episode of _Law & Order_. Drawing a quick table, he wrote down the words 'Means', 'Motive', and 'Opportunity'.

Means

House: One of the more highly paid suspects (+1). On the other hand, Wilson's point about lunches and Foreman's point about his leg apply (-2x0.5). 1 - 1 = +0

Cameron/Foreman: Paid about equal to me, so not as many financial resources to dedicate to this. +0

Cuddy/Wilson: As dean/department head respectively, paid as much or more as House. +1

Motive

House: Lives for playing pranks. +1

Cameron: None. +0

Foreman: None. +0

Cuddy: None. +0

Wilson: None. If anything, he'd just target House, but no sign of trouble between them. -1

Opportunity

House: Skives off clinic duty all the time (+1), and has myself, Cameron, and Foreman to do his dirty work (+3x1). 1 + 3 = +4

Cameron/Foreman: Not much, see above. +0

Cuddy: Not much that I can tell, given responsibilities as hosp. admin. +0

Wilson: Same as Cuddy, but diff. reason. +0

Chase flicked his pen back and forth as he added up the points, to come up with the results: House - 5; Cameron - 0; Foreman - 0; Cuddy - 1; Wilson - 0. He stared at it for a while, thinking that it seemed too obvious for House to be the prankster, but there was also no way that Cuddy would have done it, either.

Then again, maybe it wasn't one of those five people. Maybe House had annoyed the nurses one too many times and one or more of them had broken under the strain? It would explain how so much got done in such a short span of time, and if they'd pooled money to do this, the 'Means' column wasn't so difficult to explain, either.

He sighed, and rubbed his face. He needed to leave before he began over-thinking this and forgot about his real job - being a doctor. The Australian got to his feet and was about to give investigating a break when the ceiling vent grate above him creaked. He frowned and looked up just in time to catch a familiar-looking horde of stuffed toy kangaroos right in the kisser.

The resulting uncharacteristic storm of expletives drew two nurses who were passing by, and brought Cameron and Foreman running from the conference room.

"Hey, man, are you all right?" Foreman asked.

"I'm fine, just get these things off of me," Chase griped in a muffled voice, shoving at the pile. Foreman knelt down and began tossing kangaroos out into the hallway.

Cameron just sighed and went to grab another trash bag.

Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, Diagnostics conference room, 1 April, 1:57 PM

'Let's see,' the prankster thought. 'The security footage of this morning is mine, that's step zero. Wilson has a new fresco, check. All three members of the team have been pranked, so that's done. Cuddy has clinic duty - ironic. And I didn't even have to distract Cameron, but I'll keep that in mind for a rainy day.'

The prankster paced for a few minutes, then thought some more. 'I've gotten all the pranks done before noon, but since this is April first, I might as well continue with whatever I can find. Along the way, hopefully I can get Cameron to admit her feelings.'

Grabbing Cameron's trash bag of British kangaroos, the prankster left.

Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, Dr Lisa Cuddy's office, 1 April, 4:33 PM

A very exasperated dean of medicine sat facing her computer, reviewing budget information for April and May. Dealing with numbers had never been her strong suit, so she'd anticipated being frustrated already. On top of the hospital accounts came the wave of pranks, which was not a mood improver.

She'd thought the worst had been over when the statue of Dr Cameron had been delivered to the lobby, but then Chase had come to her complaining of being rained on by the same kangaroos Cameron had cleaned up earlier. Maintenance was still up there replacing the old, rusted vent screen, which had cracked under the weight of so many stuffed toys.

Finally finished balancing the numbers, she sat back in her chair and took a sip of her tea. She rubbed her face briefly, then grabbed her coat and stood. As she left her office and entered the outer office, a mariachi band began to play from nowhere, quickly joined by the edgy sounds of tuned-up guitars.

_¡Mmm, amigos!_

_¡Adelante, amigos!_

_Vamos, vamos, mi amor_

_Me gusta mucho tu sabor..._

_Girl!_

_I want to take you to a gay bar_

_I want to take you to a gay bar_

_I want to take you to a gay bar, gay bar, gay bar_

_Ay qué rico un dos tres_

_Sí, te deseo otra vez_

_Pero no no no tu corazón_

_Más más más de tu limón_

_Querido_

_Dame de tu fruta_

_Dame de tu fruta_

_Vamos, mi amor..._

_I've got something to put in you_

_I've got something to put in you_

_I've got something to put in you_

_At the gay bar, gay bar, gay bar!_

_You're a superstar_

_At the gay bar_

_You're a superstar_

_At the gay bar_

_Superstar_

_Superstar..._

Cuddy dashed back inside the office and began ripping through her drawers and desk trying to find the source of the noise. She found herself looking at two pairs of speakers, each with an iPod nestled between them. The first one she recognized immediately, as she'd seen its owner come into work still listening to it, or using it to dodge clinic duty, or any number of other things, but the second one she hadn't seen before. She disconnected both iPods, set House's down on her desk, and turned over the second one to see an engraved nameplate she wasn't expecting.

"HOUSE! CAMERON!"

Two floors up, the prankster smirked.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Still don't own it!

Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, Diagnostics-Oncology balcony, 2 April, 10:17 AM

"You're not serious."

"I am, Jimmy boy," House said, pointing behind Wilson into the Diagnostics conference room. There, sure enough, sat or stood six residents in various places around it. Plus one more standing in the corner of House's office itself.

"This is almost worse than the whole epidemic with the babies," House added, in a whiny tone. "I'm clearly more important than some idiot's tie."

"Yes...yes it is, pranking deans of medicine nearly always goes unpunished."

"Yeah yeah yeah, I get it. Except I'm not the one pulling tricks like some bored-on-a-Friday-night frat kid this time."

Wilson paused to consider this.

"Well, you don't have any motive this time, but how else are you going to convince Cuddy of that?"

"I don't have to do a thing. Right now, all I need to do is sit at my computer with a vial of sildenafil the whole day, and the grasshoppers in my office can watch like hawks and report to the Evil Queen of Medicine all they want."

The oncologist just shook his head and started to go back to his office. "Good luck with that, House."

"Fifty bucks says I'll be off the hook this time tomorrow!" House yelled at the closing door.

Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital pharmacy, 2 April, 11:38 AM

Anyone who really knew Gregory House could tell you that he held a strong and long-standing dependence on Vicodin. This was all the more reason that suspicion would hit him first when Cuddy found the dispensary's entire supply missing.

A lone figure whistled merrily while redistributing vials of the painkiller in various places throughout the hospital, including the MRI machine and the sleep lab in the basement; the chapel and all of the lecture halls; the maternity ward; the psych ward; and, to top it all off, the anesthesia office on the top floor.

Afterwards, the prankster walked down a hall, turned left, and grabbed the toy RC car stashed in what had been Stacy's office, before she'd left.

After all, no one would appreciate the prank if nobody knew it had been done.

Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital cafeteria, 2 April, 1:45 PM

Chase sneezed again. For some reason, he could still _feel_ the fuzz from those damned kangaroos following him around clouding up his sinuses.

On the other hand, it was better than the pranks the other ducklings had caught. Neither of them were budging from Diagnostics or the clinic out of annoyance at the grapevine and the rumors traveling along it like it was made from fiber-optic cable.

Which currently explained his sideline business as lunch courier for both Foreman and Cameron. In the absence of any cases, and out of sympathy, Cuddy had assigned them to the clinic for the next two weeks.

"What'll it be, Dr Chase?"

"One chicken Caesar salad, hold the dressing; one double cheeseburger; and one spaghetti marinara, please."

"Comes to 17.63," the cashier said, taking the credit card from Chase and swiping it quickly.

"Next!"

Chase walked over to the clinic with the 3 boxes, straight into Exam Room One, where Foreman and Cameron were waiting.

"Salad, sandwich," the intensivist said, handing his colleagues their food.

"So, what's the latest with House and the whole pranks business?" Cameron piped up.

"Latest has it that Cuddy's having him tailed by a bunch of residents," Foreman answered, through a mouthful of burger. "That and Cuddy's tripping over some remote control car with a vial of Vicodin riding shotgun and falling into House's arms didn't do him any favors."

"That should be fun to watch. Good thing I'm not in their position," Chase commented, earning himself a stare from Cameron.

"What?"

"Doesn't it strike you as somewhat unethical?"

"What, that House now has a bunch of residents in a position where he can screw around with them at will?"

"Well, yes! There's already a prankster who may or may not be him wreaking havoc across the hospital, and now who knows what he'll do to them?"

As if to answer the question, a knock came on the door, and Foreman and Chase both looked at Cameron.

"You answer it," the male doctors said in unison.

Cameron grimaced and opened the door. Whoever was on the other side picked her bodily off the ground and walked off with her, with a loud "Good ta see you! Where's the statue?"

Foreman and Chase exchanged looks and dashed for the door just in time to catch the tail end of Cameron's protesting.

"-me down, Jonathan! And quit laughing, Tom!"

Cuddy, who was passing through on her way to the cafeteria herself, stopped short.

"What's going on here?" she inquired sharply, and the man fireman-carrying Cameron put her down.

"I'm sorry, Dr Cuddy. I'm FBI Special Agent Jonathan Cameron, this is my partner, Special Agent Thomas Sands."

"Dr Cuddy," Agent Sands acknowledged.

"I see," Cuddy said after a brief pause. "Well, Dr Cameron, why don't you take the rest of the afternoon off to catch up?"

"I - "

"That sounds like a great idea, Al," Agent Sands interjected. "Why don't you introduce us to your boss - ow!"

Cameron glared at his use of the hated nickname. "Come on, this way."

Behind them, Foreman and Chase looked at each other, then at Cuddy.

"Who thinks introducing them to House is a bad idea?"

The two men nearly broke the world speed record for dashing to the stairwell.

Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, corridor outside Dr Gregory House's office, 1:50 PM

"Why are we all standing outside? I thought Dr Cuddy said we were supposed to be watching him."

"You try and spend more than half an hour in there with him before he drives you into the Psych wing!"

The first resident looked the second one up and down more thoroughly. Silly String was curled around his mouth like a fake mustache and an ad for St. Moritz eyewear was duct-taped across one of the man's eyes. To complete the pirate motif, there was a stylized parrot drawn in bright red whiteboard marker on the right upper arm of his scrubs like a military unit patch.

"...Good point. Let's just watch him from out here."

"First smart thing I've heard you say today."

"Hey!"

The two residents continued to bicker before a third hissed, "Shut up! Davison, go change before Cuddy tears you a new one for looking unprofessional. The rest of you guys, come on and let's find out where he's going like we're supposed to be doing!"

Davison the pirate resident turned the corner and, in accordance with the law laid down by that darn Irishman Murphy, walked right into Jonathan Cameron. The FBI agent lost his grip on his sister, who in turn collided solidly with Thomas Sands, and the four of them all tumbled to the floor in a heap.

The third resident slapped his forehead. _How am I going to explain this to Dr Cuddy?_

A cane thumping down the other end of the corridor heralded the arrival of a grumpy diagnostician.

"Um...hi, House," Cameron mumbled, through the crumpled mass of humanity. "I'd get up and do introductions properly, but my brother and his colleague are on top of me - "

"Kinky immunologist," House wisecracked, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Jonathan Cameron barked a laugh as he extricated himself and got up, picking Cameron up as well.

"I like you already. Jonathan Cameron."

"Pleasure. Come on, no time to waste," House said, turning around and going into the women's restroom.

The two FBI agents turned to Cameron.

"Something we should know about your boss?"

"Um...no, not really. We just learn to go along with his eccentricities after a while. I mean, he usually does things for a reason," Cameron stammered.

"Yeah, that'd be us," Davison chimed in from the floor. "None of us are female and all of us have been watching him rather openly all morning, so he's going in where he's safe from us."

"Uh-huh. And a bunch of hospital staff dressed like pirates are following him around because...?"

"I dunno. Dr Cuddy just came through Dermatology, grabbed me and two other guys, and put us together with some rezzies from the burn unit so we could watch him."

The two FBI agents shrugged, and went into the women's room to try to figure out what was going on and why House had called them. At least their sudden impromptu vacation was going to be interesting.

Cameron stood where they'd left her, staring into space. That was precisely how Foreman and Chase found her a minute later, as they reached the Diagnostics conference room.

"Cameron? Is everything alright?" Chase asked.

"...How does House know my brother?"

Foreman shrugged. "Probably he stole the background check on you from Cuddy and read it. Isn't he here to see you though?"

"No, I didn't even know he was coming!"

"Come on, maybe Wilson will know something," Chase suggested.

Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, Dr James Wilson's office, 2:15 PM

"He did what?"

"You didn't know either?" Chase asked.

"No, I thought he'd try to do his own investigation! You know how he is with puzzles - always has to figure them out himself. I didn't think he'd track down Cameron's brother and ask him to help," Wilson replied.

"Well, he's here now, and you know House best. How should we handle suddenly having a pair of FBI agents looking over our shoulders while we're trying to work?" Foreman griped.

"That's not the half of it, guys," Cameron warned. "My brother and his partner are crazy about pranks themselves, so you'd better be prepared for a practical joke wave when the three of them are all together scheming."

"Just great," Chase complained, sneezing again.

Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital lobby, 3:00 PM

Two FBI agents wearing poorly hidden smirks ignored the pouting of a certain female immunologist as the three of them exited the hospital.

"Come on, just tell me why you guys are here!"

"Y'know little sis, from what I hear, your boss is as crazy about not knowing things as you're beginning to sound. He...rubbing off on you?"

Cameron didn't bother answering that one.

"I remember you telling me about the monster trucks, and the date. And I know the first one didn't go so well, but any guy who likes monster trucks is grade-A in my book."

"..."

"Okay, no problem, it's dropped like a football soaked in WD-40. Anyway, I'm here because I wanted to see my favorite only sister."

"And...?"

"And my brilliant partner leaves out that he dragged me along because Dr House asked specifically for us to help figure out some kind of prank wave sweeping the hospital?"

"Yeah, all your colleagues, plus that cancer doctor and Dr Cuddy got hit, didn't they?"

Cameron sighed. "Yeah, I guess it would be funny, but it kind of plays off something I don't like to think about."

"Don't put yourself down, sis," her brother said, as they walked past the outdoor seats behind the cafeteria. "Maybe that's the whole point to this, and all the other practical jokes are just camouflage."

Behind them, the prankster froze in mid-sip of a Cherry Coke. _These guys are too good by half...but I can't panic. They're just guessing right now, and if I can push them the right way, they can influence Cameron into taking the bull by the horns. Hmm..._


End file.
